


anxiety sucks

by honkksscarlet



Category: Technoblade - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Technoblade Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Teen Angst, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 00:28:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30013344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honkksscarlet/pseuds/honkksscarlet
Summary: self projection :)*teenage techoblade is sad because anxiety sucks. wilbur helps him out (with mentions of tommy).
Comments: 2
Kudos: 59





	anxiety sucks

**Author's Note:**

> tw// self harm, anxiety attacks

Shit.

The boy lay still on his bed, allowing his mind to run circles around itself. His eyes stared dead above him, glaring towards the ceiling. He was trying to suppress whatever feeling bubbling from his stomach. It was almost as if he were angry?

But he wasn't. And he wasn't scared either, (that being his second option-- he would get scared sometimes, for no reason) and this worried him.

This had been happening far too often. The first time being around three months ago after his (foster) father scolded him for his inconsistent grades. It wasn't his fault, of course; He had been studying for weeks on that test. It was the teachers fault for grading it wrong.

(That's what his best friend, Schlatt told him.)

He cried that night, but it was more than just tears.

It was violating. Each sob ripped a part of his pride open, and allowed hundreds of disapproving words to seep through the holes and wonder to his brain. It was as if they were everywhere, trapping him inside of a box with walls of mirrors. It was as if he wasn't allowed to be distracted by anyone else. He could only observe himself, the words, and the monster he'd created. It ripped open his veins and destroyed any sort of organization throughout his body. It was terrifying.

That was just the first time. 

Most times, (like tonight), were just on the edge of that. Most times, he'd be standing on the tip of a cliff, looking down on the room of mirrors threatening to encage him.

But they never did.

He only ever thought they would, because of few occasions.

He would never know what kind of night it would be. Would he be observing or experiencing? That might be the worst part.

Wait, it wasn't. The worst part about these "attacks" was how he dealt with them.

The voices in his head deemed he needed a punishment for being so weak. For giving in. Most of the time, he would bite on his knuckles. It relieved any other worse urges, any urges that made re-setting the counter on his phone necessary. 

Tonight was one of the nights he'd have to.

The boy groaned in his bed, ripping the sheets off of him. He knew it was two in the morning, and he knew he ad to be at Schlatt's early the next morning, so why couldn't he sleep?

The stronger the urge to cry became, the more he recognized the kind of night tonight was.

Tonight was bad.

As much as he hated to, Techno reached his hand to the side of him, picking up his phone. The boy scrolled through any kind of social media to keep his thoughts from getting to a point of no return.

Nothing seemed to be working.

He turned his phone of and through it off his bed.

Why was he so mad?

The voices had the same question, but they got increasingly more angry the longer they went with no answer.

'Tell us!'

'Why are you mad at the box? Hasn't done anything to you, go apologize.'

'It's an inanimate object, dip-shit. He doesn't have to.'

'E'

'Blood.'

'Blood.'

'Blood.'

Techno rubbed his eyes, ignoring the discomfort of overlapping voices. Why were they so loud?

The urge to cry began to climb far too quickly.

Subconsciously, he begged it to stop by rubbing at his eyes once more.

It didn't.

But he didn't cry, either. He was staring straight into the eyes of tears, but none slipped,"Thank god." He whispered, knowing how the voices reacted when he cried.

'Who are you thanking?'

'We're still upset, you got too close.'

'E'

'It shouldn't happen at all, pussy.'

'Blood'

Techno didn't want to give in, but was aware of the inevitability. He knew they'd always win. The boy stood up from his bed, going across the room to where the phone sat. He opened it back up, and glossed over the number of apps he had.

'Delete'

'Remove'

'E'

Techno ignored the pleas of his mind, and reached the app he was looking for. If possible, his urge to slam his head into the wall grew as he tapped his foot to the ground (in attempt to keep himself sane at the moment.) He frowned at the number.

It had only been two weeks and the voices wanted more.

Did he want more?-

No. No, it was just the psychopaths intruding on his thoughts. 

Did that make him a psychopath?-

'We don't care'

'Do it'

'The number's uneven anyway.'

'Blood'

'E'

Techno groaned, aware he was giving in as his hands began to shake. The feeling was dreadful. He knew he would break the (large, compared to what it normally was) number because he couldn't suck it up and ignore a few assholes.

His mind then ran on autopilot, searching and scanning for something- anything sharp. He knew he couldn't get to the kitchen, it was downstairs and that would cause too much noise. (Not that he hadn't made enough already.)

Techno was knocking books over like dominos and be-ridding papers like it was nothing. Why couldn't he find anythi-

"Techno?"

The boy stopped for a second, trying to determine if that was nothing or a voice in his head.

After no speaking the next few moments, he deemed it as a voice and continued his search. They obviously wanted him to find it faster.

"Techno!" Wilbur's voice sent panic through Techno's mind, causing him to jump. Once his mind registered Wilbur was standing at his doorway, he felt somewhat embarrassed? Wilbur was Techno's foster brother. (Along with Tommy and another soon to come.) The two had nothing in common, yet they had grown extremely close in the past seven months of Techno's stay.

"Wilb- Wilbur? The heck are you.." Techno trailed. He stood awkwardly with his hands behind his back. He looked like a child caught in the act of a horrible thing. Wilbur walked towards his brother, closing the door behind him. "Tech, It's two in the morning, the fuck doing?" Wilbur's voice was heavy with exhaustion and sounded extremely similar to the voices. Techno almost ignored his last question, it was what he had trained himself to do.

Techno stood silently, he didn't know how to answer.

Wilbur then registered the state his brother was in. His hair was in a low messy bun, (unlike the usual neat braids) and he wore a "Tokyo" crewneck with tan- were those sweatpants? Something had to be up.

"Tech, are you alright?" The brit inquired.

This shocked Techno to his core. He didn't know why, but it was as if he'd been woken up while sleep walking. His hands became shaky and his mind began running laps again. This time, tears began to form in his eyes. 

The boy sat down in front of his bed, back against the frame. Papers crinkled under his feet as he walked. Normally, he would have stepped over them but he honestly couldn't care right now. As soon as a tear fell, the voices scolded him in millions of ways. Insults flooded his ears and only caused an ocean in his eyes.

"Wil, I don't know what's happening to me." Techno choked as Wilbur sat down next to him. As much as Techno boasted about hating physical touch, in reality he needed it to keep him grounded. As soon as his brother as within reach- he latched onto him. Like a dog, the voices would remind him. Wilbur reluctantly cradled his brother back. He knew far too well what was happening. After a few 'take a deep breathes', and a few muffled sobs, Techno began to calm down. The voices did, too.

They never did that.

Wilbur circled his brother's hair with his hand, it seemed to calm him.

"Does dad know?" Wilbur nodded towards Techno's forearm. Techno knew he could see it, he was happy someone finally did. He shook his head and closed his eyes. That was all Wilbur needed to allow himself to drift off, along with the shorter.

**Author's Note:**

> all platonic!!! 
> 
> lmk if anyone wants a part two!


End file.
